


Strep

by KatieBug1998



Series: Supernatural One-Shots, Sick Fics, Injured Fics, and Hurt/Comfort [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fever, Protective Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Sickfic, strep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-03 19:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10255982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieBug1998/pseuds/KatieBug1998
Summary: Reader wakes up in bed next to Dean, sick.





	

You're woken up by Dean shaking you.

"Babe, wake up. (Y/n)?" You groan. It's too early to wake up. A hand is placed to your forehead. "You're burning up." Dean turns on the light, and you roll over to look at him. That's when you feel it. Everything. The high fever. The headache. The stomachache. The pain in your ear. Worst of all, the pain in your throat. It's so painful to even swallow.

"Dean, it hurts." Talking makes it worse.

"What does?" He crinkles his brows and pushes your hair over your shoulder.

"Everything."

"You wanna be a bit more specific?"

"Throat. Mostly." From what you know about strep, that's probably what you have.

"I don't know... What do I do? I haven't had to deal with this kind of thing in awhile. I mean, I can do cuts and shoulder dislocations, but I don't know about this. I mean, do I take you to the doctor? You look awful. You kept rolling over in bed, then you threw the covers off." Dean's rambling.

"Shh. I'll be fine." You grimace; the talking only made your throat feel worse.

"Like hell. I'm taking you to a doctor."

"You're overreacting," you respond.

"Maybe I am, but I love you (y/n). This is the longest long term relationship I've ever been in. I care about you, and I don't want to see you in pain." He looks at you with those damned puppy dog eyes, not as good as Sam's but still good, and you can't help but give in. "Besides, we aren't on a case right now or anything."

"Fine. Bathroom," is all you can manage to say. 

"I'll go start the car." Dean gets out of your shared bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxes. He picks up a shirt and turns around. "Are you okay?" he asks, seeing that you're still in bed.

"Just enjoying the view." You smile lazily. Sighing, you get out of bed and walk to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth, you swallow some water. It does nothing to sooth your throat. You root around under the sink until finally finding some tylenol. You take it; hopefully it will ease the pain and bring down the fever.

You go back into the bedroom, put on some shorts and a thin t-shirt before walking out into the main area of the bunker. Sam is there, already awake, looking at his laptop like always. "What are you doing up?" He glances up at you. "You look like crap."

"Mmhm."

Dean walks in then. "(Y/n) is sick. I'm taking her to a doctor."

"Overreacting," you mumble.

"I am not," he begins defensively. He rubs the back of his neck. "Maybe I am."

Sam chuckles. "Seems like it."

"Shut up, Sam. (Y/n), what are you wearing? It's freezing outside." He starts taking off his jacket, but you stop him. 

"I'm hot," you tell him.

"Right." He tosses the blanket back on the couch. "Let's go."

• • •

Dean stays by your side the whole time. It's annoying that he's making you do this in the first place, but he's cute, which almost makes up for it. The best part is when you lean against his shoulder because you're so tired.

Once in the room, they take your temperature and blood pressure then do the strep test. Basically, they take a long q-tip and rub the end against the back of your throat. Dean looks so confused. "It's fine, Dean." You look at the nurse, and say "He's not used to this."

She smiles. "I can tell. You're a very sweet boyfriend. It won't hurt," she says, more to Dean than you. She does the test, but you have to wait a bit for the results to get back. She asks questions; he knows you so well, he can answer almost every single one. 

Ten minutes later, you're told that you do, in fact, have strep along with an ear infection. They give you a prescription for antibiotics, along with instructions for bed rest, drinking lots of fluids, and taking tylenol for the pain and fever. Dean hangs on to every word the doctor says.

Once you're back in the Impala, you nudge Dean with your elbow. "What, do you have ghost sickness again? Why are you freaking out?"

He takes your hand in his. "It's your fault," he says jokingly. "You make me crazy. Everything changed when you came into my life. I worry about you."

"I worry about you too." 

Dean grins and pulls out of the parking lot. 

• • •

"How was it?" Sam asks, still at his laptop.

Dean sets grocery bags down on the table. You sit down and rest your cheek against the cool table. "I was only slightly overreacting," Dean brags. "(Y/n) has strep, so no hunting for a bit." You raise your head a little to glare at him, then lay it back down. "It's gonna be a long week, but (y/n) won't be contagious 24 hours after she takes the antibiotic. I asked the doc." You can hear the smirk in his voice. He asked a lot of questions there.

You groan, letting Dean know you're still there. Then Dean's right there, rubbing your back soothingly. "Sleep."

"Okay, come on," Dean says.

You stand up and start walking towards the bedroom. Sam laughs. "I don't know if I should be impressed or embarrassed for you, Dean." He laughs again. 

"Shut up," Dean says.

He takes you back to the bedroom. After you lay down, Dean puts the covers over you, but then starts to leave. "Mm," you make a noise to get his attention. He turns back around and you gesture for him to come over and get in bed with you.

"I'm just going to get you ginger ale, then I'll be back." You shoo him away then.

He comes back a minute later with a soda can with a straw in it. Despite it hurting your throat, he makes you drink half of it. "The doc said you need to stay hydrated." You glare at him again. He sighs, rolling his eyes up at the ceiling. "Do you want anything? I bought tons of food. I can bring a-" he thinks for a minute "a cool washcloth if you want." You nod your head. "Both?" You nod again. "Awesome."

By the time he gets back, you've already been asleep for a bit. He sets down a bowl a soup of the bedside table. Then he sits on the bed next to you and starts wiping the sweat off your face with a cool washcloth. You sigh. It feels so nice. Last you checked, the fever was a little past 101. Dean continues, stroking the cloth down the sides of your face and neck. This small comfort that Dean offers means so much. "Thank you," you mumble.

"Are you ready to eat?" he asks, without responding to the thank you. You nod again. He picks up the bowl and hands it to you, careful not to spill any of it. "Maybe this will help with your sore throat."

You settle into the bed and are about to start eating the soup when you notice that Dean is staring. With the spoon halfway to your mouth, you say "Can we watch TV?"

"Oh, yeah." Dean puts on your favorite movie, which he hates and usually complains about, and gets in bed with you.

After you finish the soup, you're about to lay down next to Dean, but then he tells you to finish your ginger ale and take your medicine. You grumble, but take it. If it were anyone else, you wouldn't listen. The pain doesn't seem worth it, but, dammit, you love Dean, so you do what he says.

Finally, you lay down, and curl up against Dean's side. He's always warm, but he feels cold against your feverish skin. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close to him. He runs his hand up and down your bare thigh. You stay like that for awhile, until you fall asleep. When you wake up a few hours later, everything is the same except a different movie is playing.

"You didn't have to stay with me," you say, your voice thick with sleep. 

"I wanted to," he replied. "Do you need anything?" You shake your head against his chest. "Throat still hurts, huh?" You nod. "I'll get more tylenol and ginger ale." He slides out of bed and leaves the room.

When he gets back, he has everything you need. After you take the meds, he gets back into bed with you. He gets the fresh, cool washcloth and runs it over your face again. It feels so nice.

• • •

It stays like that for almost a week. Dean takes care of you. He brings you things to eat and drink. He makes sure you stay cool. He does what he can to help with the pain.

Basically, Dean Winchester is the best boyfriend anyone could ask for.


End file.
